


Dark Side Come With Me

by goddessamonet



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Blindfolds Play, Choking, Cum Eating, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dom!Kylo Ren, Execute Order 69, F/M, Face-Fucking, Finger Fucking, Force Bond, Force Choke, Force Dyad, Inappropriate Humor, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inappropriate Work Place Sex, Keep the Mask On, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren's Apprentice, Lose All Hope Ye Who Enter Here, Master and Apprentice, More Like Tough Love Than Toxic Love, Mutual Masturbation, NO reader insert, Naked Female Clothed Male, No Condoms In Space, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Power Play, Praise Kink, Prisoner of War, Reward and Punishment, Rough Sex, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sex and Lightsabers Basically, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Squirting, Sub!FemaleOC, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Stormtroopers Don't Get Paid Enough For This, This is NOT the Jedi Way, Vaginal Orgasm IS Real, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, You Know I Can Take Whatever Canon I want, master kylo ren, too many tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessamonet/pseuds/goddessamonet
Summary: How did we end up here? What is this place? Do you feel it, The pull to the Darkside? Witness what happens across the stars, in a Galaxy far, far away. Luke Skywalker’s Temple burned down, but one Padawan got away, hiding amongst the ranks of the Resistance, now an agent in service to General Leia Organa. But long is the shadow the light casts, which fell dark upon the young Padawan without a Master, to grow only darker as she falls prey to the choking-tight grip of Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order. But the Dark side can extend a hand as well as it can raise it. Will the Padawan take it? Would you?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)





	Dark Side Come With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to all.
> 
> I want to start this journey thanking some of the authors who wrote some of my favorite Kylo Ren's fic, who have been such an inspiration to me as I went through the throbs of lethargy during the quarantine of spring 2020;
> 
> Fix Your Attitude - by Kassanovella. The iconic fic, the very first Kylo Ren's I have ever read and the one I always come back to.
> 
> These Violent Delights - by Lunaxxx. The one who always makes me laugh.
> 
> Three Blind Tooke - by ElmiDol. The one I just found out??? How could I have been blind to such a read???
> 
> Of course, none of them needs introduction, but I warmly recommend these fics, quality content, quality reads.
> 
> Now, back to us; I know how popular Kylo RenXReader are, and that OC's aren't really everyone cup of tea, but Y/N inserts aren't mine.
> 
> The Story: this fanfic was born after some long star wars marathons during the months of the quarantine in spring 2020, and I consider it to be an essay on the dark side of the Force, of sorts, and a love letter to Kylo Ren's character.
> 
> To be sure, some of the themes dealt in this fic would be of violent nature and while my intent is not to hurt or upset my readers, I will not write warnings in the notes each time a new chapter is released for the sake of surprise factor. All the warnings you need I have already put in the tags. 
> 
> Last but not least, this fic had become a cherished project of mine, a significant step foward into my writing process that helped me grow as an author, so I hope you are here to stay. 
> 
> With this being said, enjoy your reading. See you very soon with the next chapter.

Stand to my left, It’s the place of honor,

strike the match through times of rain, maybe we won’t swing.

So easy come so easy go, we sharpen sticks and we throw stones.

What a way to win a war. What a way to fight a battle.

I’ve been faithful general, but I tire of this cause, I’m with the beast that backs the birds.

Can’t pick a side now.

(What a Way to Win a War -- Tom McRae) 

Kira was the worst Jedi who had ever been trained, and the Force was not with her. And without it, she would be quite thoroughly fucked.

The glamorous promise of Ubialla Gheal’s nightclub, winking its glittering eye in come-hither was like a glowing beacon of light to all the gamblers, racketeers, wealthy thrill-seekers, and stellar aristocracy coming from all the corners of the Galaxy to enjoy its pleasures and indulgences, welcoming them lavishly in the dazzling coastal city of Canto Bight.

Amongst all that dazzle, she made an alluring picture. Beneath the glaring lights, in the shadow of her hood were sharply blended someone else’s delicate features and a stubborn way of carrying them. Even if given to her by some unknown, it was an arresting face; a pointed chin forever dipped upwards, a square-cut jaw, a full mouth, painted shimmering red. Strong brows, stark against the warm honey skin, were always furrowed willfully and slightly slanted downward in intent. Framed by them, turbulent, dark eyes starred in inky lashes, watched, surveying, distinctly at odds with the nature in which she had been forced into by the admonitions and strict discipline of the Resistance.

Even if her face and demeanor had been imposed by someone else, her eyes were her own.

Inside the casino bright throbs of opulence blinded her, where the low, the bad and the worst of live forms in the entire Galaxy were already enjoying themselves. Patreons all over were gambling, drinking, cheering and whoring. Some regulars acquainted with the dealers and croupiers were already betting all their credits and laying wagers at the tables. Onstage, a band was playing and a Pa’lowick performer was singing to the crush of people behind thick, glittered, fake lashes. Entertainers in their sleek, barely-there, sequined dresses were circling around the wealthiest club-goers, brushing limbs, hands and lekku, whispering soft sweet-nothings, trading drunk kisses and blowing on dice. The whole place stank of booze, smoke, sex and bad choices.

Kira stepped right into it, letting the concealing fabric of her cape slid down her shoulders, slowly, as she inteded to, and the figure-hugging green, shimmering silks clinged to her sleekly in its provocative sheath silhouette. Backess, exposing the sharp lines of her shoulder blades, so tough and slender wings might have sprung from them. The slash on the front of her skirt where her legs came though, the cleavage, a low plunge in the front, offering a glimpse of the generous, soft curves of her breasts, drawing the eyes. Only a gilded belt hung about her hips seemed to hold the outrageous little number clinging to her skin.

Her hooded cape, no longer serving its purpose, dropped on the floor, as she had meant it to. Nearby, the dresser, busy gathering patreons’ coats – a Twi’lek servant with bright blue skin and lekku arrangend around his neck and shoulders like a shawl – almost tripped into the hay-day gown of some old, Rodian lady, scurrying at her side, rushing to collect the item as the club-goers turned to stare at her bold move, and at the show of her dress.

Mindful of the looks, the little number did not belong to her nor did she truly belong to it, but it would serve her well. In it, she felt both impregnable and and bare to sight and touch. Although, her true beliefs were much better guarded than the dashing shell she offered as a decoy. Underneath all that shimmering, splendid fabric, the real goods were jealousy hidden; inside secret pockets, her comlink and holoprojector had been tucked away, fastened to a strap at her thigh there were her weapons, a hold-out blaster pistol and some other trinkets. But all those things did not belong to her, no more than her lavish dress did. Only the weapon hidden at the small of her back truly belonged to her. A _real_ weapon.

Kira advanced confidently across the room. Her hair, unbound, cascaded on her back in soft waves. A single braid starting from the crown of her head and held in gold wire tumbled softly at her shoulders. Gilded pendants adorned her ears, dangling softly as she walked. She looked ultrasharp amid the glitter, strolling amiably amongst the gambling tables, the cigar-smoking man and sparkling dames. She nodded at the crowd, as if she knew them, greeting some patreons in fluent Mando’a, glub-goers in her wake looked at each other, like. “do you know her?” to then shrug and carry on with their evening.

Kira moved through the tables, scanning. One was more crowded than most; antsy patreons were playing high-stakes at Sabacc, Pazaak and Savareen Whist, spilling their drinks in anger, slamming frustrating fists onto the tables whenever a bad hand turned out, all the while the dames at their arms watched with disinterested eyes and sparkling, pursed lips as their piggy banks lost all their credits to the wagers.

Kira was on to this pace. Canto Bight – the sparkling jewel encrusted between the coast of the artificial shores of Cantonica – A lousy, bleached, glittering arshole of perdition; Just another wretched space port for racketeers, slavers, space pirates and war lords pimped out as a gamblers’ paradise, much like many cities on gilded Corellia and some of the infamous lower levels on dazzling Coruscant, and rubbing shoulders with the low of the lowest of all the Galaxy was of paramount importance for the success of her mission.

It wasn’t ideal, of course. Bypassing protocol codes, defy hierarchy and gaining a reputation for _headbutting where she did not belong_ went against everything Leia Organa had ever taught her since she had taken Kira under her protection. But she was beyond orders, now. And if she did get caught… Kira was not so foolish as all that. Best keep playing her… game and everything will go smoothly.

Searching and scanning the crowded club, Kira’s eyes fell towards the oddest of sights, odder even for Canto Bight’s standards; at the far end of the throbbing riot, beyond drunken laughter and dames in their lavish dresses, a larger-than-life Dowutin towered two good feet above the rest of the club-goers. Jutting out from his chin, a pair of facial horns gleamed menacely, sharpened and polished for the occasion. At his arm dangled a human woman. Tall, slender, sharp features, stark black graphic eyes and full lips painted electric teal that made her appear as if she were wearing war colors. The oddest thing about her, she was completely clad in black latex, from hood to heeled boots.

_Mercenaries. Both of them. Now this is a party._

This could mean trouble. And she definitely noticed the holsters hidden beneath the woman’s dress.

_Best stick around, see who the guests are and what are they packing._

Kira was not late, not yet, but she should not waste any more time. Trouble would not serve her, tonight. And should she drag this wild goose chase any longer than she needed to, General Organa and the Rear Admiral would be in no mood to hear her excuses, this time.

Kira dragged her gaze away and made her way towards the bar, she needed a drink.

Beyond the counter, colorful bottles of booze were aglow with the bright lights of the club, amidst the shimmers, a Twi’lek bar lady, all bright pink and beads of jewels artfully arranged on her kekku was putting away some of the glasses. As she saw her approach, she fully turned towards the open space to greet her. Kira ordered a Bluurgfire, a Koja-rum-soaked cooler and the bar lady had dismissed the credits she had been holding out in payment. “No need for that, doll. With a little number like that, half the gentlemen in the room will be tripping over themselves to pay for your liquor.”

 _Just so._ Kira grinned and as soon as she leaned foward, pressing her elbows and forearms against the polished counter, glancing up at the kaleidoscopic wall of colorful liquors, suitors started to swarm about. She spurned them all, as they buzzed around her plenty, proof that her bold dress choice would serve her well, later. However, she did not let them pay fro her drink, much to the bar lady’s dismay.

“when you stand behind this counter so long as I have, you start seeing things straight business.” She told Kira as she worked. “I’m talking the worst of the worst, rackeeters, pirates, smugglers... Even Imps. Look for yourself, doll. That one is even sporting his Imperial medals in full regalia.”

It was true. Far across the craps tables, a line of shining medals were neatly pinned to the puffed-out chest of an old Imperial Officer, mingling heedlessly with all the other club-goers as if he all but owned the place. Beside him, someone was talking closely to the Imp, another man, a man with a pretty red plom bloom pinned on his lapel.

_The Force is with me. And I am one with the Force._

_Two porgs with a stone._

Kira took a sip of her drink, raising the glass in a thriumphant toast to herself and was about to go to her targets, when something familiar in the Imp drew her eyes and she took a better look at him and her hand pushed the glass against her lips in horror, for she knew who he was.

A man who clearly had not yet come to terms with the fact the he was now in his fifties. He had long, thin hair that were cut evenly to reach his shoulders, dark and greasy at the scalp with wisps of grey in it. Grey were also the bristles of the few thick, short hair on his jaw. He was lean and his muscles were still toned, but he had a belly on him, and clothes on his back so opulent and flashy that surely must have been great fashion, in the hay-day; an old, faded geberwool uniform, shiny black boots and a coat long enough so that as he walked, he almost stepped on it, with a fur trimmed collar and of a red so intense it almost made her eyes water. Pinned to his breast, he sported a lustrous line of shiny, polished medals to symbolize his rank.

And why wouldn’t he? He earned each and every one of them.

Core-worlder. Born and bred on Coruscant and proud of it. Fervent Imperialist, he was the only man in the room without a Twi’lek entertainer dangling from his arm, xenophobic as he was. The prodigal son of an Imperial General and revered member of the Emperor’s very own close council as one of the finest weapon engineers of his generation. Nowadays, his technical expertise had been employed and put to use by the First Order.

The trade post and shipping yards from where he smuggled his precious Imperial technology were located in Coronet City, Corellia – or so they were, before she blew them up.

It was not for him that she had come to Canto Bight, it was for the other; the man with red plom bloom pinned on his lapel. Maz had warned her the infamous poet with a blaster had pulled out the wrong ace from up his sleeve and now owned an onerous debt to a fearsome old Imp working for the First Order. Kira had not given the warning much thought and went anyway. Of all the people in the Galaxy to turn up here, it had to be the Imp whose shipping yard she had destroyed. The irony of the situation she had gotten herself into had Kira burst into sudden, wry laughter, so that Koja-rum almost spurted out of her nose.

If she wanted to pluck her pretty red plom bloom, she’d have to mind some thornes, first

Trying to regain some dignity, Kira took her half-finished drink and pulled away from the counter, not before turning back one last time towards the bartender, wiring an overly-huge tip into her credit-pocket, as to leave no debt left to pay. She stepped into the colourful crush. Her feet went on their own accord, crossing the room swiftly, almost half-running, until she came close enough. She caught her foot in the hem of her dress, lurching forward, and spilled her drink all over the Imp’s pretty uniform. The Imp reached out to her, preventing her glass to crash on the floor as he caught her, steading her back to her feet. Kira’s free hand clung to his chest.

“I’m terribly sorry!” she blurted out awkwardly, taking a small step back. “Apologies, sir! I didn’t know where I was stepping.”

Her Imp startled as she had come onto him, trying to balance his own drink in his hand as she came tripping. But his eyes widened as he took her in, observing her face for a moment, then dropping to her cleavage for a moment longer. “Easy, girl. No use crying over spilled liquor.”

Kira stepped back some more, so ashamed. “your uniform,” she cooed, all concern. “I’ve spoiled it.” Boldly, she reached out a questing hand to try and dab at the koja-rum-soaked spot as she demurely lifted her head to regard him from beneath her lashes.

Her Imp couldn’t repress an amused grin, at her touch. As it was, he looked too eager to have her spectacular cleavage almost flushed agaist his chest to give her sudden appearance too much of a thought or to even suspect what she was up to.

Kira drew closer, her eyes shifted from worrying about his soaked uniform to the shiny dash of medals that flashed underneath the throbbing light. To crown the whole, her mouth formed an awed ‘o’ as she breathlessly released a small sigh of admiration, and she once again looked up with her downcast lashes fluttering. “please, allow me to make it up to you… um, sir?”

Her touch and her looks seemed to strike a chord from his gut to his groin, and she knew he was hers. She had made herself small, meek and compliant. Best her Imp believed her some wandering entertainer, looking for some wealthy client, and since there was no way he was going to take a Twi’lek, a pretty, pink-cheeked, smiling doll with a deep cleavage was the next best thing.

Sometimes it served her well to play the fighter, other times it served her better to play the whore. And Kira so well did enact that role that the poor conceited pig almost felt bad fo her.

“General. “He pushed his hair back off his brow and flashed her a charming smile. “General Ved Foslo.”

 _You fool, you stupid fool._ “General?” she stared in awe, mouth going agape. And to crown the act, she slightly inclined her head respectfully, taking the time to look up at him, dark lashes fluttering. “I’m honored.”

Foslo ate it up and swallowed it whole. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Kira smiled her most seductive smile. “I _am_ rather thirsty.”

Right above their heads, velvet-lined balconies were cut into private boxes where the best paying clients – wealthy traders and galactic aristocrats – could comport themselves in total comfort. A more expensive kind of entertainers were often found beyond those thick curtains, reclining on soft pillows and indulging the wealthiest patreons in every whim of food, booze and pleasure, well apart from the lousy, colorful crush below. Ubialla Gheal’s private balconies, in particular, were infamously known throughout the nearest systems and were seldom empty.

It was there where her Imp had led her through dark alcoves and clumsy fondle. _Good._ She thought as the General gave her breast a squeeze, fumbling for a nipple. _There I’ll have him all to myself._ No guards had been posted in the alcoves just outside the private boxes’s doors. Time enough to come and collect her pretty red plom bloom later.

Theirs was not a silent ascend, though. The General had a big mouth and he seemed to like boasting of his long career during the lost days of the Empire, of all his pretty medals and how he earned them as he touched her all over.

“Over thirty years of faithful service to the Empire and that’s what’s left, these medals. Things were different when Emperor Palpatine ruled the Galaxy, you know. Back in those days Imperial agents had class. These bimbos nowadays have it all wrong. Even their uniforms lack style. They call themselves First Order – they vow that they gonna end what the Empire had started, but how they gonna get anything done if they can’t even dress themselves properly?”

Kira let him vent on. “I bet you looked so dashing in your uniform, General.”

Foslo gave her a squeeze. “You think so, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“That is, when you were younger.”

The general frowned, chewing on his lip. “I’m still young, girl. You gonna see how young and strong I still am. C’mere.”

Provoked, he seized her by the hips and pushed her hard into the nearest wall, pressing himself against her. Beneath his trousers and through her own fine silks, she could feel him growing hard already. The General reached up a hand to tangle between her hair and pulled forcefully, effectively yanking her head back as he sunk his tongue into her mouth in a hurried, ferocious kiss. She moaned sweeping inside his own mouth in turn. Harsh and impatient as he was, his hips ground against hers with the memory and second-hand skill of a man who knew how to pleasure a woman. And Kira, more out of trained habit than her own fortitude, felt herself grow wet and warm between her legs. Her response was but overwhelming compliance, utterly loathsome, of both thrill and contempt. And the sound of fabric against fabric and skin against skin as their bodies slid across one another was both disgusting and delicious. He was so wild and huge, and her with her bare shoulders and small figure felt just like a child struggling against a bigger, badder bully, pulling at her hair. Her moans deepened, but she could not catch her breath – she wanted to shout – and her tongue was slow and heavy against his. She pulled away sharply, gasping for air.

Foslo grinned, mistaking her hot humiliation for rapture, huffing hot breaths against her skin. “That doesn’t feel too old, does it now, girl?”

“No, it doesn’t.” she twisted in his grip and snuck a hand down to slowly stroke at the bulge in his pants. “Kinda sprightly, I’ll admit.”

The General threw his head back and let out a lewd roar. “Mother of moons, you’re perfect.” Refusing to budge, he moved his hands down to trail and grope at the shimmering silks of her dress, feeling the fabric as he had her firmly pinned against the wall. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a fine frock. I’ve always had a taste for fine dresses…and for what’s underneath.” Foslo’s hands snapped at her ass, squeezing and pinching her cheeks beneath the silk. He let out a carnal moan as he felt how toned the skin and flesh was. Greedily, his hands went for her breasts until she begun to tremble. “Your ass. Your tits. Perfect. What’s your name, Sweetheart?”

“Kira,” she said as she stroked him. “My name is Kira.”

“Kira,” Ved Foslo moaned. “Kira. Kira. Kira. You’re the best lay I’ve ever landed, Kira, do you know that?”

Kira pressed her hands to his shoulders and pushed him off of her until he hit the opposite wall. Perhaps with a little more _Force_ than she had first intended. “You have yet to land me, though.” She gave him a wicked smile and snatched herself out of his grasp when he tried to grab her back, flying up the stairs as her poor General shouted after her, struggling to keep up.

When he reached her in the gloom of their private box he was flushed and panting, whilst Kira didn’t even break a sweat. She waited for him, artfully rearranging herself, propped on top the dark red velvet couch, legs kicking playfully. The General grinned, tugging at his blouse to smooth out the wrinkles and regain some composure, reaching out a hand to push his hair back off his face. Foslo gestured at the velvet-lined balcony and the glub-goers parading, blissfully unaware downstairs. Breathing a little heavily, the General moved towards the little bar cart in the corner of the room, where a bottle of green champagne was waiting to be opened in a dripping ice bucket.

“See? Us above, them below.” He started as he took a couple of glasses for them both. His back to her. “This is how is supposed to be; us above, them below. This I would have showed the First Order – _the proper order_ – if they’d let me. They should thank their lucky star for the legacy they flaunt. The lagacy the Empire had created for them. But soon we’ll have another star; one so bright and so terrifying that the suns will look dark. A star that will kill all the other stars.”

General Ved Foslo cursed under his breath as he violently grabbed the bottle of champagne. Kira heard the sound of water drpping down onto the velvet carpet. “First Order – Bunch of swaddling cry babies, all of them. Starting from their cheap Stormtroopers foundlings, that are now replacing the army of clones.”

“Mother of moons, when I served under the Emperor I was revered, respected, feared. Now, I’m left to wait on these children Snoke had seen fit to leave in charge of his own high command. _I_ should have been appointed General, not that cur – that pasty boy, Hux. I would have gladly served the cause again, but _Noooo_ , Snoke wanted none of that.” He cursed again, spitting out the blasphemy. “If I were in my prime, I would wipe the floor with the current set of jokers. But I am not left without friends. Oh, no. I have good many friends amongst their ranks, powerful friends, friends closer to the Supreme Leader; old Pryde and their Commander, Snoke’s own apprentice. Commander Kylo Ren.

Kira stilled with a lunar-frozen passivity upon hearing that name. Swings of florescent light from the casino swept over the gloom of the balcony, staining the dark, velvet of the heavy curtains in eerie, green hues. She closed her eyes shut at the intrusion of the spectral flash.

“Surely, you must have heard of him.” Came the rambling voice of General Foslo. Somewhere at her back there was a loud sound of a champagne cork popping.

Kira was still inert, squinting into the void. “Yes,” she admitted colorless. “I’ve heard of him.”

Then came a shuffle and the sound of a cocked blaster.

“Thought so,” Kira opened her eyes and slowly turned around to face the barrel of the gun. General Ved Foslo now stared at her with his bottom lip pushed foward, wisps of thin hair falling on his eyes as he took aim on her face. “Resistance scum.”

Kira eyed the weapon with relieved interest – almost in tranquil joy – confronted with the turn of events they have achieved and the unfolding prospect that she was staring at his gun instead of his cock. She’d choose the blaster anytime. “And there I thought you were happy to see me.”

Upon closer consideration, that would have been a very good time to keep her mouth shut.

Next thing she knew, Kira had been struck, immobilized and stun-cuffed with both wrists bound behind her back. She had been soon released by the bond of having to suck the Imp’s cock dry to suffer a bit of beating instead, and she would have endured the rough-up had the General not buzzed a harsh command into his communication device, and to her dismay, his mercenaries soon followed.

The vicious backhand blow struck her to the side of her jaw. It almost sent her falling from the cushy velvet chair she had been propped on to. Kira blinked and shook her head, the skin on the spot where the boney hand of the mercenary harpy had struck was buzzing. Give it a day and half her face would be covered in bruises.

She was not surprise to see the likes of the tall drink in the obnoxious outfit and the brickwall with fangs again. Only an Imp could be so bold as to display his medals and flaunt his goons in a casino full of people, and he won’t be so shamefacedly caught.

The mercenary’s hand connected to her face again, belting her across the face and this time, it broke her lip. Kira chewed on it, tasting the metallic flavor, when she grinned up at the mercenary harpy, she knew her smile was bloody. “don’t stop,” she taunted, shameless. “I like that shit.”

The harpy’s highly defined eye twitched and in response she served Kira another taste of her boney back-hand, the skinny bitch. This time, the blow did have her violently slid down the cushy chair and fall flat on her ass, her head whipping, falling back on her shoulders. Now both her cheeks were ablae. She felt the thin rivoulet of blood rolling down her cheek where one of the harpy’s claws had cut her. Kira scarcely had time to groan, tasting more blood on her tongue, as the mercenary’s hands grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly pulled her back up, her bad manicure scraping her soft skin with those abnoxious claws. kira releed a bit, reluctantly – the harpy had a harsh backhand, as much she had to lend it to her – her face felt hot and buzzing and her lip pulsed. She stumbled against her hackler’s titless chest and when her face was close enough, she spat a mouthful of blood that sprayed like a viscous shower of red all over her ugly face, ruining all that makeup.

“Schutta.” The harpy hissed out a curse and shoved Kira back onto the vevet chair.

Kira smirked, or so she thought, she couldn’t feel her face. “I’d say it’s an emprovement.”

The mercenary gritted her teeth, her teal lips pushed forward in plain disgust as she wiped her face, smudging a bit of her complicated, graphic eyeliner. She raised her hand again, but this time her fist close tightly.

“That’s enough, Netal.” Ved Foslo commanded from the lavish velvet couch where he was sittiing, enjoying the show. He swirled green champagne in a crystal glass. “I still need her to speak.”

The General stood, taking a sip and setting aside the glass, casually striding in front of her, peering down to admire his underling’s handiwork, as the mercenary reluctanty retreaded at the order. He sighed, almost woefully. “That’s really not how I wanted this evening to end, sweetheart.”

“I thought so,” Kira chuckeld, so that a bit of blood spurted out of her mouth. Behind her back, the thin but unyielding durasteel cuffs felt cold against her skin and the pulse lock points welded the clasps tight. She knew very well that if the Imp decided to push a certain button, the binds would go off like a living wire and a broken lip woud be the least of her concerns. She shifted a bit, slinding forward on her chair. “Believe me, this is better.”

Foslo grimaced, gritting his teeth. No more seductive smiles. “I like your spirit, you got moxie.” He reached out to brace his hands at each side of her chair, looming over her. “you see, that fact is if I were to ask Grummgar, here,” he nodded at the Dowutin guarding the doors. ”to do what Bazine had just did to you, a single strike would most likely rip your pretty, little head from your pretty little shoulders.”

Kira gave a quick, furtive glance at Grummgar, posted beside the entrance. Just his arms were the size of small gunners. “Oh, I don’t doubt that in the slightest.” She acknowledged with a nervous, bloody smile.

Foslo chuckled, humorless. “But you see, I don’t need you dead. I’ve been expecting you, slut.” He sneered, inching his face close to hers. “You thought it’d take a kiss and a dry hump and I would roll over, exposing my belly for you to gut... As you did the others? Yes, I know what happened on Corellia. And I know it was you. Perhaps you don’t know, but your reputation precedes you. The ambush at Coronet City’s shipping yards – my shipping yards, slut!” spittle leaked out of his lips as his voice rose. “My men couldn’t find any kind of explosive once the smoke had cleared out, so how did you blow them up?”

Kira gave him a look. _Is this stupid fool serious?_ “You mean they couldn’t find any _more_ kinds of explosives. You should know better than me, General; Rhyodium fuel is highly volatile and extremely flammable,” she gave him a vicious, red smile. “And incidents happen all the time.”

The General grimaced, reaching out a moist hand to stroke her jaw. His fingers trailed up the side of her neck and with a single movement yanked hard at one of her gilded pendants, ripping the earring right out of her earlobe, tearing it in half.

Kira screamed, then, her head whipping back at the sharp pain. She pounded her feet, gritting her teeth as her ear caught fire and warm blood seared her skin as it rolled down her jaw. “Fucking asshole – Filthy piece of shit!” she cried out, cursing. She could taste some more blood where she’d bitten her tongue as half her face throbbed and pulsed like the beat of drums.

The General inspected the bloody pendant in his hand for a moment before tossing it behind his shoulder, unfazed. “The raid at the Emperial Archives, the fire at the old temple… “And the ship you stole to flee from the mess you made was one of my own. Do you think I’d leave my ships laying around without security protocols? I knew you would show up here tonight to try and gut me as you did with what was left of the Imperial high command.” he cursed under his breath. “The old temple… I spent my career cracking my head trying to get through those barriers. So, how come a filthy slut like you, a kid, managed to break in?”

Kira made a startled expression as pain shuddered through her. Her torn earlobe throbbed and bled. Blood stuck to her hair, soaking her dress, rolling down between her breats. Struggling, she attempted to shift away without losing focus, her will working slowly. She was gasping as she spoke. “I thought those shipping yards moved everything from Coronet City. TIE fighters, Star Destroyers, high-tech weapons…anything.”

“High-tech weapons,” the General drawled, mock-earnest. Quickly put off from his previous question. “you thought the First Order didn’t have penty of those already? A front. A figurehead export business to better ship the real cargo.”

Kira gave him a dumbstruck look, her ear burned. _Intresting._

Ved Foslo pushed himself off the chair and gave a nod towards the mercenary woman, Bazine Netal. The harpy strode eagerly toward Kira as she repositioned herself in front of her, making a show of cracking her knuckles. Kira was too preoccupied with her own concentration that she didn’t even notice the woman’s heeled boot planting a sure kick between her legs.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Kira cried out unspeakable blasphemies as sharp pain shocked her very core. She lurched forward falling head-first from her chair and onto the floor, and she crawled to curl herself into a tight ball. It seemed as though her every nerve were in flames, her labia, her vulva were as good as pulverized. The skinny bitch’s fucking ugly shoe had gotten her clit as well. She thanked the stars, grateful that she’d given up her imen long ago, if not, the kick would have _shattered_ it. Now her face, her ear and her sex throbbed and ached.

“That’s for your incompetence in relying on outdated informations.” The General said, somewhere above her. “Netal, get her ass back on that chair.”

Kira peered up from beneath the curtain of her hair as they spread out in front of her. She saw Bazine Netal smirk as she repressed a vicious cackle. “With pleasure,” her hiss was saccarine sweet as she picked Kira up roughtly one more time. She tilted her face to hers, relying on the fact that she was too breathless and beaten to spit again. Bazine Netal pouted mock-sorrowful. “Poor, little schutta. Kiss to make it better?”

Kira headbutted the mercenary woman so hard on the forehead the harpy went reeling, stumbling backwards, falling hard. Yet, Bazine Netal did not cry out. Her boney fingers brushed the side of her head, where an egg was already forming, lumpy beneath her skin. Kira herself had fallen back onto her chair, dizzy and still wracked with pain. “Suck my clit, bitch.”

“You little cunt!” The mercenary jolted back on her feet and the Dowutin moved, too, growling menacely until General Foslo shouted a halt.

“And you call yourself a pirate, a gun-for-hire? Look at you, Netal; bested and ridiculed by a little girl in stun-cuffs!” Foslo taunted. “leave, now. I’ll take care of her myself. Grummgar, you too. Prepare the ship, we’re leaving this place, and make sure you are not followed.”

“But Sir – “

“Piss off, I said! you two take care of our _poet with a blaster._ And you better not let that greasy pirate mock you, too. Get to the ship, this won’t take long.”

 _No._ Thought Kira. _It won’t._

Grummgar growled in assent as he went through the door and Bazine Netal retreated, too, seething.

Once they were alone, the look on the General’s face was of amused intrigue – almost carnal. There was somenthng in his sly smile that she did not like. His thumbs looped beneath the crease of his trousers and Kira was sure that he was eager to stroke the evident arousal in his pants. Small wonder: her kisses and touches had left him frustrated and wanting for more.

He gave Kira a leer. “which one you sidin’ on? Resistance or New Republic?”

The sudden question genuinely threw her off guard. She knew that half of her comrades would promptly respond that they were one and the same, but Kira knew well that it wasn’t that simple, and the question was one she had no easy answer to. _Since when a slobbering Imp cared for that?_ “Who says I have a side?”

Foslo grinned. “Kid like you, with enough clout to go after all those big shots…No. I’d say Resistance. The New Republic might not want anything to do with this new set of rebels, but rest assured they have their own agents, since their precious princess went rogue and fled with her fleet of terrorists.”

Kira looked up sharply at the mention of Leia’s name. “That’s General Organa for you, Imp scum.”

Ved Foslo lashed out, grabbing Kira by her hair and forcefully pulling her forward, yanking her head backwards, so that his face was inches closer from hers. Kira gave away no sign of discomfort, though her scalp tingled and her face was all an ache.

“That old, royal hag sullied the rank when her rebel scums appointed her their leader.” His eyes regarded her curiously as he tugged harder. “you remind me of her, you know? I was there on the Death Star when she was first brought on board… such spunk, such boldness, full of fire and fierceness in a girl so young, is a rare thing to see. And I was there when Moff Tarkin forced her to watch as Alderaan was being reduced to a fistful of stardust, and yet, the little princess did not cry. Not a single tear oozed out of those big, proud eyes.” Another look and he grinned. “Might be I can make _you_ cry.”

It was Kira’s turn to grin. “You know that’s not gonna happen.”

“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen, slut.” The general took a step forward, looming above her, and Kira was forced flush into the velvet chair, sinking deeper into the soft pillow, until the General was nearly atop her. He reached out a hand and showed her the device to activate the stun-cuffs bound to her wrists. He circled the edge of the button, tracing it with the pad of his thumb, teasing her.

“You – You are gonna leave this system with me, and I will deliver you straight to the First Order as a token of a bargain well struck. You, the girl who’s had her finger in every pile of shit dropped into our lap, having her fun whisking Imperial officers and precious intel out of ther hididng places. You left a trail of bodies in your wake and you thought the First Order would’t notice? You’ve became quite the asset on the market. Don’t worry, though, I won’t sell you cheap.”

Her smile deepened as the General’s hands tugged at her strands harder. “And I’m worth every credit.”

“So you are. Supreme Leader Snoke will see how faithful and loyal I am to the Empire, offering a Resistance asset in the bargain. He’ll rise me up again above the ranks of the First Order and I will finally be given my due” His lips curled up in the cruelest smirk as he gave her another leer. “What? You thought we’d rub pants for a while and I’ll surrender you all frustrated? I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna treat your like a princess, but I’ve worked hard to service the First Order and I intend to savor it for as long as I want – and you,” The General snuck the other hand below his belly, unbuckling his pants. “You are gonna service me as well, sweetheart.”

“Think so?” asked the Padawan, softly.

General Ved Foslo looked up sharply, his pupils dilated and his vicious grin fell as he found his own body frozen in place, all his movements crystallized on the spot. “Wha – what is this?” he rasped, clinging to his sole ability to utter broken words and move his eyes. The General tried to wriggle his finger on the activating device, aiming to push the button, to no avail. His now blood-shot gaze crazed, snapping in every direction. “Mother of Moons, what have you done to me, you little cunt!”

The stun-cuffs clicked softly as the pulse lock claps finally yielded. Kira was grateful this stupid bastard had fitted the binders at both her wrists instead of restrain one arm and leg, or a single limb to the furniture, the whole process woud have been much more difficult. Now free, the Padawan reached out a hand and with a flick of her wrist, she snatched the device right off his grip and shoved the General across the room. Ved Foslo rapidly flew backwards until his back hit the velvet wall, hard. He let out a groan at the impact, now panicking and frightened, his chest swelling with breaths of terror. “What kind of sorcery is this?!”

“This is your due, General.” The Padawan answered pulling herself up, reaching for her weapon at the small of her back. “This is the service I’m billing you.”

The polished, gilded plating of the hilt always felt cool and comforting in her hands, but beneath the gold, the hard durasteel. One move and the lightsaber screamed to life, strobing, sideral and blazing green. Its core, hot and molten as the heart of a supernova wound about the gloomy balcony in blasts of star-fire heat.

Foslo’s petrified eyes widened as he saw the saber ignite. He observed the roaring, green blade with reverential terror. “That’s a nice glow stick you got there, girl.” He said through gritted teeth. His chest inflated and deflated slowly. “Y’know, I was just a kid like you the first time I saw me some weapon like that... In the hands of Darth Vader...”

The Padawan smiled. “Soak it in then, because it’s the last you’ll ever see.”

A swing of her saber and she ran him through, piercing his flesh from one side to the other. General Ved Foslo choked on his last breath, the light in his eyes sucked away, almost absorbed by the brighter, hotter glare of the lightsaber. The Padawan switched off the blade and the lifeless, heavy body of Ved Foslo dropped down onto the velvet-lined floor. On the wall behind him, a small black hole circled in a ring of fire where the saber burned the surface of the polished permasteel glared down at her like a judgmental, disapproving eye. Kira wrinkled her nose at the carcass at her feet; the hot plasma of her lightsaber cauterized the wound, preventing the blood to spill, but the smell of seared flesh soon invested her nostrils, followed by a more pungent scent as the General relieved his bowels.

“Fuck _._ ”

She was in for it, now. That was close. That was perilously close. She should have known better. She should have been more careful. Stupid bastard. Stupid bastard knew everything! What a scale, really. ‘perfect mission’ at one end, ‘total pooch-screw’ on the other. Killing the General was a mistake, a huge one. Ved Foslo was a top-tier target and a potential leverage, the New Galactic Senate had been at his heels for years and the Resistance sought to exploit him. But she couldn’t let him go unscathed after he revealed what he knew of her…if the Resistance found out… Kira had to make a decision under the barrel of the blaster and she let the General put her there.

She had been careless; she had been reckless. “Kylo Ren.” The General had said. One word and Kira had frozen as if she had been dropped into the depts of space. Kylo Ren. Even after six years the sound of that name still made her angry. _Kylo Ren._ Kira clung to that anger, feeding the flames of hatred within her heart. She shot the lifeless body of General Ved Foslo a cool-vicious look full of boiling resentment as she wiped the blood on her chin and jaw with the back of her hand. When she touched her ear, the burn made her wince, but her earlobe was still there, torn, but there. The fact that the Imp pig had seen right through her somehow burned more than all the beating. _Kylo Ren._ It was all planned, she had been so careful. Some potent drug slipped in his glass would have been all it took and she would have fled with her Red Plom Bloom. _Kylo Ren._ Corellia, the shipping yards, the old temple, should someone else discover what the General knew… _Kylo Ren._ that rang a bell in the back of her brain. The shipping yards in Coronet City – A front. A figurehead export business to better ship the real cargo. What was the First Order up to?

_Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren._

Kira walked the floor, gritting her teeth and gathering her breaths. Pacing back and forth, violently shaking her head, wanting to cleanse her brain of that unhealthy obsession. She needed to think. She almost tripped into Foslo’s massive, useless body and gave it a small, frustrated kick, cursing under her breath. Gripping onto some clarity of mind and swallowing her pride, she picked up the holoprojector from the secret pocket underneath the skirt of her dress and placed the device upon a lavish, velvet-lined chair, activating the transmission. It took a few seconds for the call to be received and when it did, the device glowed to life, producing the wavering, buzzing silhouette of the receiver.

She had changed her hair again since the last time they spoke. Kira passively approved of the new pink tresses. The green hues of before did not become her weasel-like features as much as she liked to believe and made her look like some tall, creature from the depts of hyperspace. Seated there on her high seat, imperious and unfazed, she gave the air of someone who would have been well content grasping the whole Galaxy in her right palm. Of course, she also had changed her wardrobe accordingly, to better suit her new style, the old hag.

A beat. “Rear Admiral Holdo,” Kira greeted once the transmission fully stabled. “It’s been a while.”

Amilyn Holdo’s eyes were blue and steely and they pierced right through her, widening as they took in the state of her beaten-up face. “Kira. Where are you? You deserted your post.”

Holdo seemed to have no time nor care to worry about her broken lip, bruised face and torn ear. Fair enough. “Rear Admiral, there’s really no time for small talk, I have urgent informations to report.”

“Do you?” The Rear Admiral inclined her head stiffly. “Then I’ll trust you made contact after deserting orders, again, and disappearing without warning, again, to explain why you went rogue to raid a First Order’s outpost and potential hot spot in which you have been deployed to collect informations at _your own_ request?” she asked in a whisper. “Does that sum up your report, agent?”

Kira’s jaw clenched at the Rear Admiral’s reaction, frustratingly submissive. “News travel fast, I see.” _Through hyperspace, more like_. Kira had hoped to a least gain the night. “Ma’am, this matter is of paramount importance. I want the coordinates for the Headquarters to be beamed to me, I need to speak with Leia.”

“ _You want?_ ” The static image of her face in the hologram buzzed slightly. “You are Leia Organa’s proxy on the field, but you’re not her proxy with me.” Holdo sighed heavily. “You have disappointed me for the last time, Kira. This little stunt of yours had just costed you your security clearance. You should thank your lucky star Leia’s presence is requested at the front and I refuse to bother her with your overtures.”

“You decommissioned my security clearance?” asked Kira like a fool.

Good thing General Organa didn’t know half of it. Most likely Leia thought her off across the Galaxy; perhaps back on Dantooine, serving with the auxiliary forces, as she told the General she would. Or in Coruscant, lazy, comfortable and pampered, sipping champagne and rubbing shoulders with the people who mattered, there. Or on Yavin 4, in pilgrimage, discovering the secrets of the old Jedi Temple, or even in Hosnian Prime, being drilled in political and legislatory matters has she had often urged her to be. Her General’s soft and yet, strict instructions had always been clear; for her to stay away from the battlefield, to stay away from the First Order.

“Don’t whimper, agent. You’ll have your security clearence back once you’ll have resumed your posting and given up your dry run across the Galaxy in search for Luke Skywalker.”

Kira was not to be so easily dismissed. “The postings you assigned me were ridiculous!”

“Leia ordered those postings. Good postings. That’s why I agreed when Leia ordered for you to be moved away from the battlefield and closer to the Mid Rim, but you squandered your privileges. You squandered them all. Despite all your foolish resistance, Leia called in favors to distance you as far away from the war as she could.” Holdo fixed Kira with a firm, steely look. “Do I need to lecture you again, Kira?”

Kira did not need to be lectured again. She cringed at the older woman’s tone. Her demeanor as motherly as a queen bee in a beehive.

Kira bit her lip and shame washed hot over her. For six years Leia Organa had protected her, instructed her, cared for her, doted on her. Since the day Luke’s temple burned down and all the Jedi had been slaughtered. Another Great Purge. All Jedi, except her and Luke Skywalker, were gone. Thus, her flight across the Galaxy had begun. Leia welcomed her with open arms, as if she were her own, teaching her all she had to teach, and all Kira had repaid her with was desertion, treachery and insubordination.

“But I have rock-solid data, this time.”

Holdo’s lips curled in plain annoyance. “It’s pretty limp, actually.” Another beat and the image inside the hologram wavered. “Don’t bother state your coordinates, agent. We have already tracked the ship you stolen after that sloppy mess you made on Corellia. Don’t worry, you’ll get to see Leia once you will be brought in front of the High Command to answer for your actions. I’ll leave the explanations to you, think wisely, Kira, choose your lie well.”

At her sides Kira’s fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress. She didn’t like to argue with the Rear Admiral when she reminded her of her precarious position. “I don’t want to live a lie anymore.”

Holdo fixed her with a cold, steely look, “Young girl you should be grateful that this lie even exists. Where would you be without Leia’s protection?”

“I am a Jedi.” Kira said slowly, almost in need to remind herself of it, too, though she had forgotten what that was like. She raised her head, her hands closed into fists at her sides. The slightly burning sting of her nails digging into her palms was the only thing that prevented her to set ablaze with fury.

“And what else do you have to run on?” Holdo hissed icely. The wavering hologram scowling in a piercing stare. “What else have you accomplished? Luke Skywalker is gone. You are no Jedi; you are a shadow. The only thing you got going on for yourself is that kow you wield your laser sword in service of an authority that doesn’t know who you are. That’s it. That’s all you are. A shadow casted by the light of Luke Skywalker. Another Force-user. Not as important, not as interesting, but a Force-user just the same. And let me ask you again, Kira, do you need to be reminded _who_ will come hunting for you, should you go on your own in search for Luke Skywalker?”

Kira shuddered. She knew too well. The seething bile she had to swallow in order to endure Amilyn Holdo’s bitter taunts had been completely bleached clean by that dark prospect, always lurking, always following whenever she went. In the back of her mind, white slashes of light pierced her brain and her head pulsed like an open, weeping wound. The thought gave Kira a constrictive sensation around her sternum and darkened her mind in throbs.

“ _He_ won’t find me.” She said, shivering. _Kylo Ren._ Kira thought resentfully. _It always turns on Kylo Ren._ “He _can’t_ find me. He doesn’t even know I exist.”

“And that’s will still be so,” Holdo approved, nodding her head with a stiff move. “No one has to know. And honestly, who would care? Kira, all the bright lightsabers in the Galaxy won’t be enough to change the fact that you are compromised. You are damaged goods.”

Kira looked up sharply at the soft glow of the hologram. The bile was corroding in her throat, burning her voice away and yet, deep down her bowels twisted cruelly, willing her to violently, voluminously spill her words free. But before she could open her mouth, Rear Admiral Amilyn Holdo disconnected the transmission with a sharp move. The soft glow of the hologram shut down in wisps of pale light.

Kira’s fist opened and closed in fury, her fingers curling and uncurling until she reached out, lifting the communication device into empty air. the holoprojector started to go off. The device exploded within seconds, cracking and fried, erupting in wisps of electricity and a plume of smoke rising slowly to the air and she hurled it away, sending it to clank and rattle and burn somewhere on the floor.

“Fuck.”

She needed to think quick. Without a safe conduct, security clearance and coded protocols, her plan was put in severe jeopardy. If Rear Admiral Holdo already knew of Corellia, a Resistance’s extraction team could be hoovering above her head any moment, now. She glanced once more at the dead body on the floor, getting colder by the minute. And if even General Ved Foslo had seen her coming from miles away…someone else might have already been after her.

Kira paced the floor some more, clenching her jaw with fury at the thought of giving up her plan. She glanced down the balcony into the throbbing crowd below, where her pretty red plom bloom was still spinning amidst the glitters. The Master Codebreaker. A man with the means and talents to crack any code. She’ll have to give him up as well, for now. As for what she was carrying… wars were fought as much as conquering and retrieving encrypted info and Intel than with offensive military efforts. And what Kira had with her could turn the tides for good. She put a hand down her own cleavage and retrieved the chip at the old Jedi Temple on Corellia.

A map. A map to Skywalker.

Whatever was encrypted inside the tiny chip in her hands needed to be put in the safer ones of Leia Organa, as soon as possible. The New Republic had ruled the Galaxy for nearly thirty years, but it was likely to fall in a day, should the map fall in ememy’s hands. Kira could not be trusted with it, and the risk of discovery was too great. Already she had almost single-handedly al given herself away, fooling around with the General, and gratefully, miracoulosly, he had neglected searching her once she had already been restrained in stun-cuffs. The additional security units she had implanted inside the casing might not hold, should extraction be attempted, and without a proper containing socket the precious cargo would never be safe.

It was not going to be pretty. Cursing blasphemies under her breath, Kira let herself drop heavily onto the velvet couch and gathered up her skirts. She reached out a hand underneath her panties and canted one leg aside. Foslo’s coarse kisses and rough manhandling had left her more sweating that wet, and that faint, hurried arousal had fled her skin entirely. The mercenary harpy’s vicious boot did not help matters either. She almost winced as her fingers brushed the tender flesh of her sex. She’ll have a bruise on her cunt, too, for sure. Kira thrusted the chip inside her cunt too hurriedly, at first. The angle was not right and the shape of it wasn’t ideal. Thinking better of it, Kira slowed her fingers and pushed the chip more carefully between the dry flesh of her netherlips, pressing her eyes shut at the uncomfortable sensation.

Once she was done, Kira stood, smoothing out her skirts and crossed the small private box, carfully circling around General Foslo’s body. When the hinges of the door hissed open, Bazine Netal was there waiting for her.

Kira looked at her, then at the vibroblade. “ _schutta,_ ” The hand moved faster than she would have believed, but Kira’s were quicker. She reached out and grabbed the woman’s wrist with all her strength. The mercenary did not budge. Finding her free hand, Kira aimed a punch at her jaw and the harpy came stumbling backward. It was a near thing, though. By the time Bazine Netal found her footing, Kira had already called the lightsaber in her hand.

Leaping, the vibroblade descended on her again, and again, Kira blocked it, parrying the blow with the lifeless hilt of her saber. Kira’s free hand gave her a shove, but instead of falling back, Netal lowered her weight on her knees. Kira took advantage of that and thumped the lifeless hilt into her eye, sending her reeling. The harpy hissed and jerket back, taking her payback when she punched Kira flat on her stomach, driving Kira’s breath out of her lungs. She groaned and lurched forward, and her chin meet the mercenary’s boney knee as it slammed into her. The inpact sent her reeling backwards this time, retreating to the velvet couches. Kira’s face felt numb, and a fresh, wet rivulet flavored her tongue in a metallic taste.

The merceary stepped into the private box and her graphic eyes found her General’s body lying cold and lifeless on the floor.

“your handiwork?” she hissed, fixing her eyes back on Kira.

The Padawan smirked, wiping at the blood of her now split lip. “You know what they say; practice makes perfect.”

Before the two of them could make their move, A low rumble sent the earth to shudder. From beyond the curtains, the on-going party below stopped and held its breath until startled gasps, overlapping murmurs and the crystal sounds of clinking glasses buzzed aloud.

“You hear that, _schutta_?” The mercenary grimaced, looking up at the ceiling. “That is the sound of the vanguard.”

 _No._ For a moment Kira stood motionless. _It can’t be._

A quick beat and her lightsaber glared to life. The bright green blade enveloped the gloomy room in throbs of heat-wave, and even the eyes of the fierce mercenary looked upon in awe and terror.

Kira gobbled it up and swallowed it whole, tasting the fear she sensed all over Bazine Netal. “I’ll leave you to do the honors, then.”

She knew the woman was hers when she took a leap forward, blade fast in hand, poised to strike. Kira raised her own hand, and with a quick flick of her wrist, Bazine Netal went flying backwards, hurled through the open doors and right down the flight of stairs, until she came rolling and tumbling down the steps, her vibroblade clattering after her.

Kira switched off the balde and fled the room. She did not stop to inspect the mercenary’s body when she reached the end of the flight of stairs. _If she’s dead, she’s dead._ She scampered past the the black latex, more concerned about the other one; Grummgar. Beyond the alcoves and back into the casino, the club-goers were moving, too, scattering in all diections amongst in plain alarm at the cause of the commotion that had put an abrupt stop at the celebrations and she knew right there and then what it was.

_Stormtroopers._

By now, the First Order must have already taken the beach. This was not planned. This was not supposed to happen. Something had gone wrong. For a moment she could not understand was she was seeing. If Kira could be quick enough to flee the Casino and reach her ship unscathed, and it was a big if, she would likely be intercepted by the vanguard landed upon the shore.

Kira moved to join the stream of people, taking advantage of the commotion to make it out the club, when she felt a sudden tug running through her with intangible energy, like a hook lodged behind her sternum, pulling and pulling.

Someone rushed past her, stumbling into her. Kira tripped and fell face-first, being only able to maintain a firm grip on the hilt on her lightsaber. She smashed her fingers beneath it as people coming from all directions bumped knees against her shoulders in their haste. She felt it as she struggled to her knees.

_The Force. I can feel it, now._

The pull constricted her in a tight grasp, hot around throat and across her chest, all but obliterating sensation. It overwhelmed her, power and energy flowed through her, in her, within her. It was impossible to ignore its invisible prensence and resist its pull, surging hot and molten underneath her skin and unfurling like a wave inside of her veins. It struck her like a dart, thrilling and swelling, scorching her body and enveloping her in bright white fames. It was pure anguish, pure ecstasy, pure power.

_Why? Why now? It had forsaken me for so long…_

Kira was motionless for perhaps as long as a minute. Any longer, and she would have been trampled. It was then when she heard the blaster bolts. It was all Kira could do to get out of the way before the crowd ran her down, kicking off her heels as she went. As the shootings began the screams soon followed. By the time she reached the gates, the people had flooded the square. Kira squirmed through the press and there the sceams intensified and then, she saw. Stormtroopers swarmed the place, forcing their way to the front of the crowd, reaching for their fire arms and rounding up the people there, clustering them around the doors. _Something is very wrong here._ Kira grew frantic, shoving people aside, parting the crowd before her with swift flicks of her wrist. She leaped through the mists of the crowd and took the rivera, taking cover of the gilded alleys of the city.

Kira did not know how she reached the beach, but it was there where she spied another platoon of Stormtroopers, pouring out from four different transport ships, patrolling the empty streets. At least ten bucket-heads in plastoid, glossy-white armors and vision-disadvantaged helmets, rifles poised under their arms. They did not spot her, yet, but she’d need to cut through them if she wished to make it out of the city, alive.

“Sector is clear,” one ‘trooper buzzed into his communication system as he surveyed the beach. It was then when Kira moved, igniting her lighsaber with one, swift move. The glare cut through the night as she charged. The sight of her green saber gave a pause at the entire platoon, so that they almost dropped their weapons when they saw her approach. “NOT CLEAR! NOT CLEAR!” the ‘trooper was now screaming as he reached to lock and load his blaster rifle.

Kira jumped into empty air above him, saber in hand, and spun around into a tight ball, landing lightly on one hand amidst the ‘troopers before vaulting backwards onto her feet. She spun again and with a sure slash relieved the Stormtrooper of his upper torso, letting him fall dead and heavy in the cool sand. The rest of him followed soon after. She heard the blaster before she could get herself turned. The bolt brushed past her shoulder, the heat slightly caressing her skin. She spun fully as the second Stormtrooper cocked his rifle again, aiming it at her head. Kira reached out her free hand and with a flick of her wrist willed the rifle to take aim at the sky as the ‘trooper pulled the trigger. The bolt flew up, leaving a bright trail that almost blinded them. The rifle ricochet and his hands and the ‘trooper stumbled backwards at the sudden bounce. As Kira was engaged with the second, the others circled around her. The third tried to avoid the bite of her lightsaber, retreating backwards, but her sword got him anyway, cutting his right arm off and taking away half his shoulder, too.

After that one fell, the rest of the platoon stood struck, circling with reluctance around her, unsure of attacking or retreating. Kira repositioned herself off-stance, holding her lightsaber back- hand, poised and at rest, waiting. And they came. They all came.

Kira struck them with such fierceness and speed that the Stormtroopers had a hard time countering her attacks. Kira slashed at one, opening him from shoulder to waist. When another shoot at her, she parried the bolts with quick, sure swings of her lightsaber, sending fiery green and blue sparks rainsing clouds of sand whirling all around them. One by one, the Stormtroopers failed, faltered and fleed, leaving those who fell or lose a limb behind, never turning back.

Once most of the sand had cleared out, only Kira stood amidst the bodies and the severed limbs, panting, restless, sweaty and hot. Her lightsaber heavy in her grip.

The frenzy. The fever. The thrill of the kill. She had never thought of experiencing it herself. The Force swelled within her and time seemed to slow, even stop. Past, present and future blurred together until there was nothing but the moment. Kira was drunk on slaughter and she craved for more.

The pull gripped her again, as strong as before, though this time so roughly, so violently it almost took her breath away. It might well have killed her. Kira choked on it as scorching fingers of fire picked at her brain as sharp as tendrils of glass and the shock of it brought her trembling to her knees.

 _No._ Kira shudered. _No, no, no, oh no._

The grit and smoke and cinders swirled through the air, swept by the wind from the artificial ocean of Cantonica, limiting Kira’s vision to what was before her, but when she turned her head, she saw the TIE Fighter beached upon the foreshore, the growing roar of mean engines pierced her eardrums as tall, dark waves scourged the shuddering hull. This ship, larger than the others hoovered upon the shore like some great bird of prey made of steel-armoured titanium, its wings so huge they could easily eclipse the moon. Whatever new thecnology it was, it ran quiet and cool.

The ship’s doors opened through wind and grit as the waves rushed past beneath the wings and stemmed against the hull in great sprays of water. Another platoon of Stormtrooper poured out in a neat stream of white plastoid gear, splashing through the surf as they came to flood on the beach. Amidst them, another figure made its entrance and when Kira laid eyes on it, at last, it was with both awe and terror.

There he was; the creature, the fiend, the _monster_ who took everything from her, sending everything she had ever loved burn in flames. The creature who killed Voe, and Hennix, and Tai, and Grogu and… and… Something inside Kira’s heart split, then. That’s why he was here. That was what she was meant for.

_The Force has given me a gift._

Kylo Ren. A dark creature so tall and large, as though it had taken shape out of a black hole. A long monk’s cloth billowed at his feet, slapping damp at his ankles as waves washed by, its color were black and darkess, as were its cape, cowl and hood. And that mask. That helmet of his, with its raised ridges and silver inlay radiating from its visor of durasteel and obsidian. A dark face so twisted it evoked fear by simply being looked at. 

Kira was not afraid. Or numb, or empty. What she was, was deserving. She deserved him, she warranted him. He was her retribution. Her breath came out of her as heavy as glass, shattering out of her thoat as she released it. She wanted him so bad.

The Padawan rose from the sands and went to him. “Hey, retard!”

Across the foreshore, the dark creature turned and saw. The sand felt cool beneath her feet and yet, every step scorched her bare soles. The pull intensified drawing her closer with such a magnetism it seemed as if she could float to meet it, and it was no more a pull, but a push. Whatever actraction was drawing her to him it acted upon her like a demanding ghost, even though it made her skin crawl and her blood scream. When the obscure visor of obsidian locked on her, it felt as though he might swallow her there and then, that dark, sleek slit pierced like burning ice through her. _I see you._

“Really?” she shouted as she advanced, mad and drunk and craving. “Someone shouts ‘retard’ and you just turn?” kira came to stand so close the creature dwarfed her, towering above her like a dark monolite. One step closer…

…and she found herself eye to eye with a dozen loaded rifles. Standing behind them the Stormtroopers tensed, ready to fire.

Kira smirked at the barrel of the blasters. “Funny. Tell me, _Creature,_ do your boys in white know the one about bringing rifles to a lightsaber fight?” Her lightsaber was in her hand and it craved the fight as much as she did. She tossed it in the air and caught it deftly, back-handed, repositioning herself in an offensive stance, shuffling in her feet as she let the green blade roar to life.

Kylo Ren’s chest rose and fell as he trained his visor upon her lightsaber. Kira could see the fiery glare reflected in the dark obsidian. his fists closed at his sides, the black leather squeaking in the grit. Behind him, the ‘troopers repositioned to take sure aim, but the creature raised a black glove, halting them.

“Don’t,” he commanded in a sharp, visceral sound erupting from the vocoder deep inside his helmet. “She’s mine.”

His words and the sound of them drove deep inside of her bones. “Come try,” the Padawan replied. ”Here’s your chance, _Creature._ You want me, you draw your own saber. Though I’ll assure you, I won’t go down as easily as the children you slaughtered.”

Kylo Ren stood like a tall, dark flame licked by the wind. He tilted the twisted face of his mask, regarding. The obsidian swallowed her whole, wrapping her in dark throbs. “Who are you?” he demanded darkly.

“I,” Kira smiled. “am Luke Skywalker’s Padawan.”

The Creature’s back crested with deep inhales that fizzed out of his vocoder modulator in shattered rattles, it seemed as though black throbs could sprout out of him, enveloping her whole. There was some shift in the air between them, now buzzing with electricity, as some acknowledgment of her as a rival for him, of sorts; a recognition, a reckoning. Kylo Ren hunched in his wide, black shoulder and took a step towards her. “No more,” he declared. “You will be _mine._ ”

Kira looked at the Creature. _He does not fear me._ She realized. And she knew the Creature was looking back at her, and she didn’t even try to wonder what she might have looked like; face swollen and bruised, half purple, half red. Lips broken and split, a torn ear, blood running down her neck, staining her silks. Soiled, sweaty and barefoot, hair ruffling in the wind, blood-shot eyes, hot tears scorching down her cheeks.

It swelled within her, then; anger, fear, hatred, pain, and darkness gave strength to her lightsaber. “I will run you through.” She vowed.

The Creature must have sensed it, too, for his twisted durasteel face tilted curiously, intrigued. There was something dark and warm about the way the obsidian slit locked on her that made Kira’s skin crawl.

Kylo Ren reached out a dark-clad arm and a weapon was summoned to his hand. The hilt was crude in appearance; some heat-hardened cylindrical piece of durasteel. There was exposed wiring, and the internal workings were exsposed, too, leaving them open to the elements. The most evident unstable component were the lateral vents to better release heat.

Kira eyed the weapon with a twinge of disappointement. As feared and powerful the mighy Kylo Ren was murmured to be, his lightsaber looked shoddy and poorly assembled as lightsabers went, and yet, Kira was eager to see how he would use it. _Let’s see if this creature might give me a contest for a time._

Kylo Ren curled in his shoulders, rearranging himself in an offensive, aggressive stance. With a stomp of his boot, he ignited his weapon, and a jagged blade of frozen red fire split the night. For a moment Kira could not believe what she was seeing. The ragged, unstable blade looked as though it had come to life from some cracked Kyber crystal stressed within the hilt. The later vents now had plasma jutting out, preventing the flawed crystal from overloading power, transforming them in crossguards quillons.

Somehow even Kylo Ren had transformed. With his weapon alive and roaring in his hands he looked everything like the monster she sweated off her nightmares. He looked darker, taller, even. Darkness and fire taking shape into the night.

Kira swallowed down her fear and gobbled up her rage. She screamed and threw herself forward. The Padawan drove at the dark warrior, and Kylo Ren merely shifted in his feet, parrying. But she sprang on, pressing on. The lightsabers kissed and the sound was one of stars crashing into one another.

Kira’s mouth went agape, breathing out a sound of pleasure. She had almost forgotten how that felt like; lightsaber against lightsaber, at last, as it was meant to be. She never heard anything more beautiful. “Oh,” the Padawan breathed, looking up at her rival, her enemy. The two were now so close Kira looked into his mask and saw herself in the reflection of the obsidian visor and the Monster’s black garbs brushed against her bare legs. “That’s some sweet sound.” She said and sprang apart.

She spun and the sabers kissed again in a sideslash. Kira had never felt more alive; her lightsaber roaring in her hand, the Force within her, blood singing in her veins. Kira and Kylo Ren danced together as their lightsabers kissed and parted. High, low, backlash, sidelash, left, right, a spin and a twirl, back-hand swings, fore-hand swings, faster, slower, spinning and parrying. Fiery red and green sparks erupted from the plasma as the sabers crashed, again, and again, and again.

She countered all his great slashes and broad upswings with thrusts of her own; Kylo Ren was bigger, but Kira was quicker. So, as she spun away from him, before he could have gotten himself turned, he left his side exposed for a moment, but only for a moment. She drove into him as quick as a hiss, as quick as a dart, and for that moment she thought she had him, but the Creature shifted back in time, somehow, and swung his weapon, parrying her swift sideslash with a vicious upswing. The sabers kissed again. Kira could not have said how long she pressed his attack. She could not drive away, and the swings had brought the two of them close togheter again, so that the creature towered above her, his dark mask looking down on her.

Kylo Ren had been relentless in his attacks, but there was some cold composure in him, she could sense it. The broad slashes, the great swings had her spin and retreat, but when the time came to let his sword fall upon her, he appeased, at rest, imponent and unyielding like a glacier. In turn, kira had been a wild fire, she appealed to all her strength to keep them frozen in place, their lightsabers struggling between them, fighting for dominance.

“Not bad,” Kylo Ren conceded. The visceral sound of his vocoder came to her so close it scratched her ears. The twisted mask tilted to her face. “Not bad at all.”

Kira looked up sharply, staring into the void of his visor, gritting her teeth. _He’s playing with me._ She realized. _The Creature wants to bring me to my knees and have me beg for his Mercy._ Kylo Ren’s mask inched closer to her face, pressing forward so that Kira had to retreat, struggling to keep up. _He’ll never have that pleasure._

Kira had grown restless, unsatisfied with their stall. It was movement she needed. Their dance had stirred something dark and fiery whitin, and it took hold of her as she raised her head to the dark mask. She could see her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Don’t hold back,” she challenged, defiant. “Give it to me right, or don’t give it to me at all.”

Kylo Ren froze as if she had struck him. Some raw, dark, primal power caught fire like a blazing dart within him. Somehow, Kira was attracted to it. She went to meet it, letting her renewed heightened senses take a peek of that power, but she was repelled back by an intangible force-field.

Grunting beneath his helmet, Kylo Ren sprang foward and Kira thought she was done for when she lost her balance. Instead of falling backwards, she went to her knees and sprung back, getting herself out of the way. He came, red saber juttering like a torch in the night and suddenly it was Kira drawing back to keep the blade at bay. If before the Creature had humored her, playing with her as he parried and slashed at the empty air to keep her twirling, now he was ruthless, implacable, _inflamed._

He drove her backwards, drove her into the surf and they splashed as waves stemmed by. Broad slashes, wide swings, brutal thrusts, faster, faster, faster. _He is stronger than I am._ She finally realized. _But I am quicker._ Kira held onto that. The Padawan matched him swing for swing and their sabers kissed and parted, kissed and screamed, kissed and sang as their dance went on. The sounds he made; feral groans, savage growls, predatory hisses.

Kira breathed out wanton moans of her own as their frenzy drove them on. _It sounds as if we are fucking instead of fighting._ She was grinning and panting whirling her blade, spinning around, splashing and springing, passionate, fierce, darting quickly, full of fire and lust for battle, until…

… Panting, breathless, she repositioned off-stance and whirled her blade, letting the point of her lightsaber fall sideways, allowing herself a moment to respite. “Come on, come on, come on, _Kylo Ren!”_ she laughed a breathless laugh. She could not catch her breath, and yet, she wanted more. “Give me all you’ve got, oh mighty kylo Ren! Struck me down, bring me to my knees!”

Kylo Ren stood tall, towering above her, red saber like blazing fire. “Oh, I will.” He vowed, words splitting the air between them like the crack of a thunder.

He came for her. The red blade came, too, raining down fire from above. She countered again, parried again, but her shoulders were going numb, her dress was soaked almost to her waist, weightening her movements. Her wrists ached from the jarrings, her legs felt weaker and heavier, her breaths came out of her in more ragged, shattering pants with each step she took, and every time she raised her lightsaber each swing was slower than the last.

Kylo Ren did not seem to wear down. She lurched foward, parrying sideways, driving his saber away. She tasted victory when Kylo Ren reeled back, his hood and cowl made darker by the water they soaked up, now heavy as a rock. She threw herself forward, driving the point of her lightsaber right into him. One step closer… _This is for Luke._ She thought. _This is for Voe, for Hennix, for Tai, for all the Jedi._ “This is for Ben Solo!” she screamed.

A slick stone turned beneath Kira’s foot, and she went falling. _No._ hers was a head-first dive into defeat. A head-first plunge into death. _No. no, no, no. No!_ Salty sea water invaded her nostrils as she splashed, her lightsaber lost somewhere beneath the shallows. The waters tasted bitter in her mouth and soon enough, waves washed over her, pulling her under.

The foreshore rang with the sounds of cheers and laughter.

Kira crawled through the shallows, her bruised face burned from the salt, though the laughter burned more. She looked at the cluster of cheering Stormtroopers as if she were seeing them for the first time. Dozens white plastoid bucket-heads were calling, yelling taunts and thriumpant insults on the beach as she splashed, struggling to gain her feet. _I’ll kill you all…_

Dark hands grabbed her, pulling her up. Kira’s damp hair stuck around her face and neck, so she couldn’t see. She choked on sea water and defeat as the stars stared down from above. “ _Ben_ …” the name fell down from her lips, though she never told it to, and bit her tongue down hard.

Kylo Ren knelt by her and his twisted mask locked into her face, her own reflection into the dark obsidian was of a pitiful wretch, unknown to her. He hoovered above her, like a predator above a prey. The waves washed past them, the pull dragging the Creature’s black cape to envelop her like dark wings, swallowing her whole. She looked back at him as water filled her throat. Kylo Ren tilted his mask, almost regarding her with curiosity. “Now you are mine.” He declared. The visceral rattle of his voice made her head throb.

Kira spat blood at his mask, from where she’d bitten her tongue. “That’s all you’ll have of me, you monster.”

The Monster wiped the blood off the visor of his mask, smearing it on his fingers as he closed his glove into a fist, the black leather squeaking. Kylo Ren reached out a hand towards her face. Feeling the cold touch of the dark side, Kira screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> \- - - - - - EDITING NOTES, AGAIN;
> 
> So, our Padawan has no idea Kylo Ren was Ben Solo. I wanted to create a plot where the protagonist is completely oblivious of informations the reader already knows, and stress that prospect to the point of frustration, just for your entertainment. 
> 
> And that will be the main plot of the fic (aside the promised shameless smut, naturally) 
> 
> MEET KIRA: If I had some balls, I would have written a dark!Rey /Sith Lady Rey fanfic and call it a day. I have to say, I'm not a fan of Rey ( and more's the pity, Daisy Ridley is a terrific actress and that stellar budget could have easily afforded better writers) I had toyed with the idea of rewriting Rey to better adapt it to the plot I had in mind, but soon abandoned that idea figuring it was not gonna work. 
> 
> Thus, Kira was born. I always knew I was gonna write about a padawan surviving the disaster of the Luke's Jedi Temple and seeking revenge on Kylo Ren. I mean to write her as a vessel for you readers to navigate the waters of the dark side and its lure, as it was the very thing in the entire Star Wars universe that has always interested me the most. Did you know that George Lucas' original name for Rey was actually Kira? That's the entire reason I picked that very very name - as a nod to the character. Honestly I don't know why they didn't go for it; it's prettier and its meaning is literally 'Dark' or 'Bright' depending on the language, and I think it would have fitted better Rey, given her origins as Palpatine's granddaughter ( which I still think is a flimsy plot AT BEST and that wacky theory about Jar Jar being secretly Snoke all along was more believable ) 
> 
> As for Kira: my idea was simple. I wanted her to be in-between a highly intelligent, astute person and a complete ditz. Let's see how that will turn out. 
> 
> In your honest opinion, on a scale from 1 one to 10 how much it shows I am more a description writer than a dialogue writer???? XD
> 
> P. S; Oh, I don't mean to drag this note any longer than it needs to, but I spent MONTHS cracking my head trying to figure out how start the story, and where and when - by the way the first draft ended up being almost forty pages long, so I guillotined it over and over again until I was pleased with the result - and I always struggled with first chapters; the most difficult to write, in my opinion. 
> 
> P. S. A FEW POINTS;
> 
> 1\. The characters I mentioned in this chapter as some of the Star Wars franchise; Ved Foslo was a character in one of the manga's versions and I borrowed him to play with it for a little while. As for the others; Amilyn Holdo, Bazine Netal, Grummgar and the Master Codebreaker are simply characters I personally think could have been explored further and wanted to breath a little more life into them.
> 
> Luke's Skywalker apprentices are from the comics 'The Rise of Kylo Ren' (which is very intriguing, and canon!!!!) 
> 
> 2\. Yes, I know, I know, I KNOW. We all love the Mandalorian and yes, I laugh my ass off everytime I think is now basically a widely accepted idea that both baby Yoda and Ben Solo had been padawan apprentices at Luke's temple together and wanted to throw that in there for shits and gigs, basically. No, I don't think I'll act upon it in the future, I was just messing around...
> 
> ... Unless..?
> 
> 3\. THAT meme. Yes, that one. That ICONIC Star Wars meme. I had to put it there, I just had to.
> 
> So, that's all, folks. Hope you enjoyed, see you very soon!


End file.
